If all the rain we had overnight and all day today had been snow, Connecticut would be Buffalo east.
Seriously, it has been raining for 24 hours solid here--sometimes hard and harsh, sometimes light--but always raining.
I talked to an Indian woman today in a store who lived near Birmingham, England for 16 years. She was talking about the rain and how it could continue for two weeks in Birmingham. Head's up, Seattle, you have nothing to brag about when it comes to rain.
The truth is, I'm trying to write about the weather, but the weather is only a symbol for what's on my heart. I can't stop thinking about how police can kill black men without fear or retribution.
And it's like that thing from the Second World War:
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.
That's a version of what Martin Niemöller said.
I feel like that when I think about how the number of incidents against unarmed black men has escalated recently.
I need to speak out, not only here, on this blog, but some other way. I need to stand in the street and hold my hands up and say, "I can't breathe" before they come for me.
I know it is a horrible metaphor, comparing American police to the Nazis, and I apologize for that. But the war on Black men has become so undeniable that white people must speak out, somehow.
I mourn for my love of this country and its values. That love is fading. It feels like the 1950's to me right now...and I lived through that to what I thought was a better place. We can elect a Black President but can't keep black folks safe.
And it rains outside. On and on and on....
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